


Howl

by Danse-or-Farkas (Markond)



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 13:41:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16855042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Markond/pseuds/Danse-or-Farkas
Summary: A short rest the night before a job.





	Howl

 

 

  


Farkas trudged over to the ring of stones the Dragonborn had made and dumped the pile of wood he had gathered into it with a look of pride.

 

The Breton looked at the mess, then up at his love and shook his head, rearranging them into a neat stack. He stuffed the gaps with sweet smelling dried moss and a sprinkle of something orange and glittering from his alchemy satchel, careful to not let it settle on his fingers.

 

The bedrolls were laid out already, pewter plates and cutlery strewn about next to wrapped cuts of meat and a bottle of juniper mead he had brought especially for Farkas.

 

Farkas couldn’t help but watch and smile at him and how he was always scrambling around so quickly, determined to get everything ready. The Dragonborn had this strange need Farkas could never quite understand, a desire to make all of their time spent together perfect to the finest detail. It was simply a type of romanticism he had never quite learnt.

 

To Farkas romance wasn't what you prepared, the gifts or delicately arranged courtships. That was all too highborn Breton. What it was to him was what you did without being prepared, the things that came as easily as breathing.

 

He was happy with any time spent together, be it by the campfire or back to back in battle with blades drawn and the thunder of their hearts drowning it all out.

 

The Dragonborn brought his fingers to his lips and breathed in with intent, then gently spoke the word ‘ **yol** ’ toward the neatly stacked pile. The world tinged blue at the edges as reality folded to his will ever so slightly, the campfire now lit and crackling away as if it had been so all night.

 

He looked so proud of himself, grinning wider as Farkas seemed quite impressed with it.

 

“I’m no expert but I don’t think you should be using the words of power for that.” Farkas watched the look change, from the grin of a proud fool to the smile of a hungry Daedra.

 

“Why not?” There was mischief behind those pale eyes as he leaned ever so slightly forward. In the firelight they almost glowed, perhaps some trickle of elven blood in his lineage showing itself.

 

“Aren’t you supposed to be using them to 'end all Skyrims woes’ as the song goes?”

 

“You forget the part that goes 'our hero, our hero, claims a warriors heart’ I’m thinking.” He grabbed the collar of his steel armour and pulled him close enough to almost taste the warmth of his skin. Farkas was direly sick of hearing that song in every tavern that recognised them.

 

“I think you already have it.” Farkas simply let his weight carry him forward, tipping the Dragonborn onto his back whilst he loomed over him. The strength of his arms was the only thing keeping his armour from crushing the Breton now smirking up at him.

 

Legs wrapped around his waist, ankles digging into the soft gap between plates. The Breton pulled himself the last few inches upward, pressing a quick kiss to the Companion's lips.

 

“And I’m yours.”

 

Farkas felt that familiar pang of feeling in his chest and the rattling of the wolf spirit in his head. Both were calling out that the Dragonborn was theirs and only theirs.

 

The Dragonborn could see it clearly, the slight shift of his eyes and the way his smile was more tooth than lip as the wolf shifted under the surface.

 

Taking the initiative he pressed his mouth to Farkas’ neck, licking and nipping at his throat hard enough that he felt the speeding of his pulse and ragged breaths he was drawing in. He knew how much trust a wolf exposing its throat meant.

 

There was a breathy growl from the werewolf that rumbled deeply in his chest and made the Dragonborn hum appreciatively against soft skin and spiky stubble.

 

As abruptly as it had started Farkas pulled back, a frown on his face.

 

“Can’t.” He knew exactly where this would lead. In his mind he could see the Dragonborn naked and panting for him, bites and scratched decorating his skin and that arrogant smile begging him for more. “We have a job in the morning.”

 

“Afterwards then.” It was spoken right into his ear and sent a sharp shiver down his spine and into his loins. “I want you to take me deep into the forest again and show me just how much I’m yours.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that.” Farkas liked the teasing grin he was presented with.

 

“I really hope you do.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a backup of something previously only posted on Tumblr. I was sent the song 'Howl' by Florence and the Machine, and did a quick fanfic snippet listening to it.


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